


royal blue

by titaniaeli



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Crack Relationships, F/M, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, might make it into a fic idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14231979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniaeli/pseuds/titaniaeli
Summary: Lyon is playing with Minerva’s hair and finds a grey hair. Minerva then has a quarter-life crisis.





	royal blue

It has been ten years since Sabertooth signed a treaty with Lamia Scale after a decade-long war between both kingdoms. To resolve the feud that has been going on since the previous generation, the Queen Dowager married her second grandson to the Heir of Sabertooth.

It has been ten years since Lyon Vastia left his home and married the then-Princess Minerva. 

In the beginning, he hadn’t expected love from his future wife. Sabertooth was renowned as a heavily militaristic kingdom, and to be blunt, Lamia Scale wouldn’t have last longer if the treaty had not been signed. The Princess was infamous as Sabertooth’s strongest warrior, famed for her magical prowess. 

Lyon was simply the second son. He is the pale imitation of his elder brother, Jura. The two brothers could not be any different. They were like day and night. Even their age gap was too far apart. Instead of being an elder brother, Jura has always been sort of a pseudo father to him. 

Jura was more powerful, more talented,  _wiser_. He was to be the next King of Lamia Scale, while Lyon was thrown to the wolves as the spare. 

At twenty, he packed his bags and left for Sabertooth, only to meet a Princess colder than his ice magic. Her gaze had made him feel unworthy, a feeling he’s not used to. He has spent his whole life working his ass off so he could stand beside his brother as an equal, only for everything to shatter at his feet with one single glance from Princess Minerva. 

Alone in an unfamiliar country where he only associated with war and loss, he felt terribly alone and out of place. Luckily, the Princess’s companions had not been as unfriendly as her, but he still felt the sting of being a foreigner. 

And then the rebellion happened. The Princess overthrown her warmongering father. After the coup, she seemed to become… softer. Her ice thawed, and she even seemed genuinely interested in knowing him. 

Perhaps, he thought, this marriage might not be that bad after all.

And then she offered to break the marriage and let him go home, and he had been quietly devastated, thinking that the budding feelings he had for her was not reciprocated, and well–the whole affair was a little stupid and dramatic back then. 

Apart from the theatrics, they obviously stayed married and became rulers of Sabertooth. And then before they knew it, ten years had passed, and they were more in love than ever. 

Life was good.  

* * *

Minerva hummed in contentment as her husband slid his slender fingers through her thick hair. She loved those strong, scarred hands and slim fingers, deftly tying her dark locks into a neat plait down her back.

She leaned further back, throwing an arm over his knee beside her. She suppressed a smile when she felt Lyon’s lips caressing the side of her neck. 

“Oh.” Lyon said softly, breaking the mood.

She blinked sleepily, turning her head slightly. She yelped when she felt a mild pinch at her scalp, raising her hand to her head.

“What are you doing?” She scowled.

She could see him holding something and studying it intensely. Annoyed, she grabbed his arm, peering at whatever he’s holding between his fingers. 

A strand of grey hair. 

“Is that mine?” She demanded, sitting up abruptly. She stared at it with wide eyes, taking note of the length. It was about as long as hers…

“I believe so,” Lyon mused. “Since it came from your head.” 

_No._

“Yes.” Lyon hid a smile. 

She did not even realize she had said it out loud. Horror permeated the murky fog of sleep in her brain. 

She’s barely even thirty yet!

“You don’t have to look this alarmed, Minerva.” Lyon laughed, tossing the grey hair aside. He kissed her forehead fondly. “It’s just _one_  grey hair.”

“It’s a grey hair _from my head_!” She groaned. She’s too young to be sprouting grey hairs. As if the years of battling wars and politics was not demanding enough… Maybe it’s the stress of being Queen catching up with her. 

“It’s not an indication of old age. It’s common even amongst the young.” Lyon said patiently. 

“Your hair is  _silver._ ” She said accusingly. “Old age won’t even affect you.”

Even after ten years of marriage, she’ll never tell Lyon that the first time she saw him, it had been his silver hair that had drawn her gaze. She had not wanted to wed Prince Lyon Vastia of Lamia Scale, but her first thought when she first saw him stepping down from his carriage was _at least he’s pretty._

 _Pretty_ had evolved to  _beautiful_ after the first time he smiled at her, small and hesitant but utterly brilliant, like the sun peeking out from behind the grey winter clouds after a blizzard. 

“Maybe I’ll go bald.” Lyon grinned. 

She snorted, choking unwittingly. 

“You’ll still be my beautiful Queen, even if your hair turns grey.” He murmured, leaning over to kiss her. Those lovely fingers slid down her cheek, cupping behind her neck. “You’ll always be ethereal to me. A Queen of Gods. I’ll always love you–grey hair…” He pressed his lips against the crown of her head. “Or battle scars…” His lips trailed down her throat, teeth latching against the collar of blouse and pulling it off her shoulder. Her breathing hitched as he licked the pink scarring beneath her collarbone. 

“My Queen.” He whispered against her flushed skin. “My  _wife_.”

_Damn her King. Damn her husband._

She pulled him into a crushing kiss, teeth catching against his bottom lip. She pushed him down, her plaited hair sliding down her chest. He caught the tail end of her plait, tugging gently. Smirking, she grabbed his wrist and kissed her way up his arm, enjoying the stifled sounds of gasps above her. 

It had been a decade of happiness for her. She couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her future with Lyon. 


End file.
